Karel's Recollection
by jpsmusic
Summary: Karel.. a blood thirsty Myrmidon.. this is my version of his past, and how a critical point in his life makes him realize everything that has happened to him.. that has made him, created him.. to be who he is..
1. Scene I

Karol's Recollection©

A Fire Emblem Fan Fiction

Scene I: Ironic Puddles

I regret nothing. There hasn't been a point in my life, in which I would re-trace my mournful tread differently. If I would to go back, I would strive to summit to my old customs, my conventional way of bloodlust and death… Could I possibly kill another soul again, as it begs for life upon the mercy of my silver? Do I slice through, impale less? No. Nothing will change again… It's not as if I could. I lay here on the ground, in a warm puddle… a puddle of red, a sorrowful memory of the merciless judging I have committed in a steadfast way throughout my life strand. How could one man alone bear this? The weights of the souls from Styx, waiting for me to join them, the demon I have become. That's why I lay here now. I have faltered and ended up stricken, beat down hard. My earthly shell released by this un-sounding failure. How could a single person's life change so drastically, so quickly? How did I not see this coming? I always had my foreboding thoughts about an incident that may appear so slyly, so cunningly, that it would stab me in the back. It's all over now, what left do I live for, Oseas? What about Oseas, the closest thing I have to call my companion, a friend. He's always been there for me, even during the most drastic times when I took advantage of my abilities, disregarded our Swordmaster, and headed into battle without plan, without hesitation, without the proper tactics need to be unveiled to succeed in any battle such as thy. Every movement should be strategically planned, planned to the precise point of victory, the sweet and irony taste of victory; The last slice through the armor, the flow flooding forever, the endless taste of iron… the lust of iron… As of now, I taste defeat, my own iron, my never ending bloodlust continuing to perceive no end. And as my thoughts of my final breaths, as my own defeat fills and stifles my gasps for air, my last journey seems to flash before, as I think of all the times I've spent, all of my victories, all of the iron.


	2. Scene II

Scene II: The General

I remember the Majesty's Palace so perfectly, so soundly, that every step I took seemed to have such significance, that if I took one move out of place, my very life was endangered… but at the time, it was not. The Palace was garnished with snow white banners, and magnificent designs of black and gold. Just looking from the Palace Court gave me such adrenaline, I almost unsheathed my sole desired self, and judged each of the soldier's life, and decided on my own part, what they deserved… if they had to pay with themselves… My sole self, my blade… I unsheathed it from its glinting silvery case, and casted it into the air, to see Wo Dao sparkle under the castle where the sun shines just right, and every ray gave the perfect illumination of charred ashes. Oseas stopped and turned around quickly, giving me the death glare; he told me to knock it off before the Palace Guards decided that two highly-trained Myrmidons and their Swordmaster were a threat to the safety and peace of the Queen… go figure. I'd be fine having to fight the military militia here, considering it's been awhile since I've had the taste of iron, miraculous flow of life, drifting apart with me. Without hesitation, I sheathed Wo Dao and continued our tread towards the Palace Gates. Oseas just grinned, satisfied, and continued walking as well; yet, he didn't know the truth behind my actions… the only reason I had continued our tedious actions was to try to keep off our Swordmaster's mood today. Although I had the skill, speed, and strength for a perfect swordsman, I was not favored by our Master. At first, I thought it was just because the Master was also Oseas's father... but I knew I was terribly mistaken… Oseas never called the Master by his real name, and the Master had never shown any affection or any proof that Oseas was his own flesh and blood, his offspring, his son and heir to his own family. Oseas was favored over me because of my actions in battle… every step I seemed to take was wrong. Every slash, every bloodthirsty kill I had committed meant nothing in the eyes of my Master. How could I compare myself to Oseas? Every action flowed with such grace, so much divinity, that every move seemed to cause fatality to the enemy, our opponents, and our foes. Compared to Oseas, I was mediocre, the swordsman in the shadows, the hidden sword behind the altar. Without Oseas, there would be no more attempts for victory. Although I had slaughtered almost twice- … no, triple the amount Oseas had, I also had the most injuries, the closest to death, the double edge… The soldier called upon his comrade to drop down the drawbridge, and as it was coming down, disaster struck. I looked to my left and saw Oseas and a wall of red between me. He was hit. We were being watched, and then assaulted. I jumped into gear and scaled up the drawbridge and jumped onto the Palace Wall. Directly ahead… and… left flank… I had my targets. I crouched down, and waited for reassurance. The last thing I heard, the one word that let me dive into my inner self, the lusting demon ready to pounce… Go. I busted forward with blinding speed. In the first four seconds, the archer directly in front of me had both of his left limbs sliced in two and his stomach dripping over, filling me with the richest aroma of the living world, iron victory. I turned to my left in the middle of hurtle and continued directly forward from there. This time, it was the commander, a sniper… a pair of two highly trained assassins had come to delete us, and had fallen – but their point came across with a steady blow to my shoulder. No second sooner, his chest was spilt open and flowed to a stop. I jumped down and rejoined my partner and Master. Oseas was already patched up and nodded approval. As I looked at my Master, he was not there- he was tending to my wounded shoulder, removing the arrow and bandaging the wound, cursing the whole time under his breath about how all of this could have been avoided if I had caught the signals of intruders: the quiet, hushed mood, the enticing anticipation of attack. It was eminent that the Queen was expecting 'company.' I looked away with pure anger pulsing through my very veins. I'm always compared to Oseas... I always strive for my best, and I surpass Oseas, but in combat, Oseas comes out victor, the sole and only. Shaking off the anger, I started towards the entrance, yet, I was halted by my Master, telling me to 'grab my rust.' At first, I hesitated, wondering what he meant... then I exploded. I just let go of my composure, and fixed myself upon my Master, flailing, thrashing forward without any other consent. That was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up on the floor... in a rather, un-soothing position. I was, in a sense, at Oseas's mercy… he was dragging me across the hall, tied up. What more could I do? I knew it was my Master's idea, who else's? I tried the best I could to not flare up, but how far could you go while being dragged across the filth of a ground? Suddenly, we stopped, and Oseas bent down to one knee, and bowed his head. I caught his eye, and he started untying me. I tried not to look completely helpless, but I was tied with several knots… there was nothing I could do… I sighed, and let Oseas continue on with his work. I looked over to the Master, and saw the Queen and him conversing, and laughing away. I remember him telling us that they went way back, but they come from two different societies now, that I didn't think their friendship could last. Apparently, naturally, I was mistaken. Once Oseas had finished up, we both knelt down, bowing our heads, giving the Queen the utmost veneration, respect, loyalty. The Master beckoned Oseas over, and Oseas half-ran to him. I shook my head while stifling a chuckle. The Master still heard this, and glared at me, showing me the beginnings of his steel. I immediately halted my gloating, and continued bowing. After several hours of merry converse between the Master and Oseas, I was beckoned to approach, and followed them to the exit. There was nothing I could do; I was the underling, the shadow of Oseas.

At this point, I was exhausted; mentally at first, but then the stressed got to me and I became weak. As we continued to tread on, I noticed we had reached the rural ends of the Bern Empire. We had left the center of the empire due to a mission that our Master was assigned directly by the Queen herself. Apparently, there had been rising forces from Lycia that were supposedly going to make an attempt to overthrow a vital fort to Bern. I decided to ask my Master what was happening, "Lord, why must we attack the militia at the outskirts of Bern?" My Master just shook his head in disgrace. I already knew the answer. We are mercenaries, it was our job. My gut told me that this battle would be tough, considering we were fighting mostly soldiers from Sacae. How could I slay my own brethren… iron… it has always been the answer... Power, strength… what more could I want? I could not forget what I did to get here. I slaughtered my family… and it felt… so good. I shook my head and kept trotting forward. After several my hours, we began to sprint to the ruined edge of a wall of a small building. This did not look like a fortress at all. It seemed to be a small village, but I had caused enough discrepancies between my Master and myself. Both Oseas and our Master looked at me, surprised I hadn't already dashed forward to begin my judgment. I just kept my eyes focused on the top of the building. It was peculiar... we were attacking a saw mill. I shook off my doubts and looked at my Master. He nodded at Oseas to search the premises. I was to go inside and occupy the top of the tower. Our Master would eliminate surrounding forces. One hand movement and we were off.


End file.
